


pit stop

by Lliyk



Category: DBSK | Tohoshinki | TVfXQ | TVXQ
Genre: Alternate Universe, Car Sex, M/M, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Siwon makes an appearance for some reason, Wall Sex, mechanic AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-12
Updated: 2019-01-12
Packaged: 2019-10-03 19:24:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17289938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lliyk/pseuds/Lliyk
Summary: changmin gets a tune up (and his car does, too).





	pit stop

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jumpstarts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jumpstarts/gifts).



> hi. i accidentally deleted the near complete draft of this, raged for a solid three minutes, and hoped to step on several legos. i then went on to find a solid copy in my word counter, which i also almost deleted. 
> 
> ............ (:
> 
> anyway, enjoy this terrible and cheesy excuse of a plot i conjured up just so that i could write this yunho for kaara. 
> 
>  
> 
>  ~*~*~typos~*~*~  
>   
>  **updated links in end notes.**  
> 

 

 

changmin comes to the conclusion that his luck—and patience—has completely run dry.

his alarm didn’t go off like it was supposed to this morning. actually, his phone had been totally dead when he woke, having magically slipped off of the charger some time in the night, and he’d left nearly two hours late. having to put out the frantic angry fires in his voicemail didn’t do anything improve his mood.

now?

well, having your car breakdown in the country roads right _outside_ of the town you’re supposed to be vacationing in with your best friends is _not_ a better time.

after a much needed loathing inner monologue and a long twenty seven minute drive in the cab of a tow truck, he maybe starts to change his mind.

the tow truck driver brings him to the closest auto repair and swiftly unloads his car. changmin makes sure to leave a generous tip on the dashboard, and she rewards him with a beautiful smile and a friendly wave goodbye as she drives off.

changmin grumpily tugs at the collar of his shirt, undoing the top two buttons. it’s warm inside the shop, almost stuffy if not for the lighter mountain air coming in from the open garage door of his car’s slot.

in what feels like no time at all he’s already looked at his watch and groaned about how late he was going be _on top of being late_ , sent two texts to his group chat, and checked the map app for the nearest restaurant. of course, the nearest restaurant is not near at all. he places an order anyway, and nearly cries at how long the delivery is going to take.

changmin puts his phone away with an irritated huff and finally takes a look around. the building is as small on the inside as it looked on the outside; there is only one other empty car slot, and a yard away from his car finds him halfway into the lobby. _jung’s_ , it says in fading red on the white brick wall in the back of the space. there are only two chairs in the room, and one of them is behind the small black desk covered in papers crammed into the far corner.

just as a tendril of disdain unfurls in changmin’s chest, a mechanic appears from the door behind the desk to greet him and, oh, what a _mechanic_.

“jung yunho,” the man introduces himself with a flash of teeth and holds out his hand. “yunho is fine.”

jung yunho is six feet tall and covered in grease, sports messy black hair that’s just shy of being too long, ridiculous biceps, and a smile that makes changmin warm from the inside out.

yunho _is_ fine.

”hello,” he says, standing, trying not to turn away and scream _what the fuck_ into the nearest soft object. his voice definitely almost cracked. “shim changmin.”

they shake hands, and yunho steps back to retrieve something from the little black desk, already saying some thing or another about standard procedure while changmin tries to discretely wiggle the tingling sensation out of his fingers. yunho’s palm was roughened with callouses but his skin was soft, and now changmin has to ignore every backwards thought that his brain starts to fire at him.

changmin sees yunho approaching him from the corner of his eye and shoves his hand in his pocket before turning to give the man his attention.

“for you,” yunho hands him a clipboard with an info sheet on it and smiles. “paperwork always takes a while so if you could fill it out while i take look under the hood that would save us some time. i’m assuming your car still starts?”

”ah, yes. how long do you think it’ll take to fix?” changmin asks as he skims the sheet. “i have plans that i’m already _very_ late for.”

yunho raises an eyebrow at him, and changmin immediately feels like an ass. he hopes his ears aren’t as red as they suddenly feel.

“ah, sorry—“

”it’s fine, i’m sure you’re extremely busy.” changmin watches as yunho gives him a quick once over and tries his best not to shift under his stare because, no, there is nothing wrong with his outfit of jeans and loose button up and—was that sarcasm?

yunho the mechanic definitely seems to be smirking to himself about something.

“let me giv’er a once over and see from there,” he says. “there is a mini fridge behind the desk, help yourself to anything there.”

he turns on his heel and leaves changmin standing there, clipboard in one hand, other in pocket, and probably a dumb look on his face because he’s realizing that yunho has an accent, and the fleeting thought of ‘how could someone so delectible be a country man mechanic instead of plastered on billboards somewhere’.

changmin sends _oh no, the mechanic is hot_ to his group chat, and takes his seat—the only seat—in the lobby to fill out the papers for his car. he holds off from watching yunho go about his inspection until after he’s carefully filled out the form he gave him. by the time he allows himself to look up yunho’s made quick work of his precious porche; the mechanic has it jacked up on three wheels already and is tending to the last one.

this time, changmin stares almost unabashadly at yunho’s arms. deep down he’s already admitted that he wants a piece of yunho, preferably against a wall so he can feel those ridiculous biceps, but more than anything is glad that he’s on vacation because otherwise he wouldn’t allow himself such a thing.

he’s feeling a lot like he’s absolutely about to allow himself such a thing.

“is there anywhere you’d like me to put this?” changmin asks, holding up the clipboard.

yunho looks up from what he’s doing in question, just finished with jacking up the last wheel.

“i’ll take it.” he says. he wipes his hands on an old red cloth from the small portable station he’s rolled out and takes the clipboard from changmin. changmin watches him read over it as he takes it to the front desk and is only a little surprised when yunho looks up and says, “now why would you drive a porche panamera all the way out here? i don’t see those often, is all—a lot of rich families come out here to vacation but they’re usually all driving fancy SUVs.”

“you think i’m rich?” changmin raises both eyebrows, and is rewarded with a playful smile.

”a car says a lot about someone.” yunho laughs a little. “besides, people from seoul don’t exactly drive to gwangju for the night life.” he jokes as he walks around changmin to get back to his car.

”guilty as charged. what gave me away?”

“your outfit, of course.”

”what, don’t like my city boy clothes?” changmin chuckles.

yunho is grinning now. changmin watches him slide under his car with a tool box, and in a moment of braveness, picks up his chair and moves it closer so that he can watch yunho tinker up close. the act is met with a look that changmin can only describe as amused approval, and it makes changmin buzz with a bit of glee.

the transition into full flirtation mode is stopped short; just as he is about to say something else, someone walks in from the back with a shout. the mystery man pauses in the middle of asking for yunho to whistle at changmin’s car, and yunho slides out from under.

changmin can’t tell for sure, but yunho’s grin seems to have gone up a few watts.

”siwonnie, hey. hand me the wrench extender? i’m unlocking the air compressor, that’s usually the only thing ever wrong with these electric engines. ”

siwonnie responds with an eyeroll as he stops behind the front desk. “stop calling me that—and i am only here because i forgot my phone. hi,” he graces changmin with a smile. “sorry you have to deal with my partner here on his own, i’m off today.”

changmin offers a small wave in return, wondering why everyone he’s met in gwangju is fucking gorgeous; even his tow truck driver had been a pretty woman.

“what kind of person takes the entire day off just to do a face mask for a date?”

“one as handsome as me, obviously.”

changmin nearly giggles, but stops himself in time. he can’t resist the crack of a smile that flickers across his face, though. siwon fucking winks at him.

”bye, yunho, stranger.” siwon waves his located phone in his hand at them and pivots on one booted foot to leave.

a small silence passes over them after he’s gone, but changmin decides not to dwell on how weird he feels and refuses to let the silence sit.

“so, the air compressor?”

yunho hums an affirmative—he’s got a socket wrench between his teeth now. changmin assumes it has something to do with the cooling system and says as much. he’s met with another affirmative sound right as yunho lets the wrench fall from his mouth and into his hand. changmin watches yunho’s arms work with fascination as he reaches into the gut of the porche and gives three solid twists.

theres a metallic popping sound. the socket wrench clatters to the concrete floor, and yunho emerges from under changmin’s car with a triumphant fist pump. he’s holding a gleaming black and silver cyllander with a short lever on the front.

yunho gives the lever a pull and is met with resistance.

“that’s what i thought,” he says, examining the object. “it’s locked up. this is definitely the problem; electric engines overheat without the compressor turning. you’ve probably got shards in your filter, too.”

finally, a diagnosis. everything yunho’s just explained doesn’t really mean much to him, but at least it puts him one step closer to returning to his vacation. he’s been really trying not to glance at his watch or his phone.

“perfect,” he says, fishing out his wallet. “how much..?”

“you’ve got to be rich.” yunho looks at him with something he isn’t sure he can describe and chuckles just a bit. “you’re practically begging to pay me. i haven’t even started to fix your car yet.”

changmin gives a sly sort of smile, and watches the way the light in yunho’s eyes changes. he should ask how long it’s going to take again, but yunho’s got a dark smudge on his cheek that makes him look insanely cute, and changmin feels that perhaps he’s held off long enough.

he just hopes lady luck also thinks that.

“what,” yunho asks, thumbing the lever on the compressor. “not going to ask me how long it’s going to take? not interested in the details on the labor?”

changmin hums, eyes sliding to the door siwon had left through.

”is he coming back?” he asks casually.

”why?”

”because i’ve pestered you plenty about my car—i belive she’s in perfectly capable hands at this point. i think i’d rather do something else.” changmin offers the truth, standing, daring to step into yunho’s personal space. “i think i’d rather find out just how capable your hands really are.”

”no dinner first?” yunho jests, but changmin notes the drop in octave under the mild surprise, the richness of yunho’s tone; he can hear the yes on that sharp exhale, can see the desire sparking in that gaze. he’s clearly had enough, too.

“i would,” changmin says, whatching the way yunho grips the sides of the air compressor with both hands, watching with rapt attention as yunho’s tongue darts out to grace over his bottom lip. “but my car is in the shop.”

yunho’s mouth pulls into a flickering smile.

“sorry,” changmin breathes, and, _oh_ , he thinks the moment he slants his lips over yunho’s. yunho’s mouth is soft, plump, and pliant only after a second’s worth of a pause.

a moan catches in changmin’s throat when their tongues slide across each other, at an almost synchronized pace of desire. yunho kisses with a firm yet yielding pressure that too quickly brings them onto the edge of fighting for dominance.

changmin is so busy trying to decipher the taste of him—a nonexistent sweetness, a pillow mint dissolved moments ago, nothing at all—that the muted warmth of yunho’s hand pressing firmly against his hip shocks him into pulling away.

he stumbles a few steps back, catches himself. changmin carefully takes in yunho’s nearly blank expression. he resists the urge the swipe the taste of yunho from his own lips. he really would much rather have another kiss.

yunho opens his eyes.

”shim changmin—“

“can i do that again?”

”no.” yunho’s voice is ragged and books no room for argument, puts cold regret in the pit of changmin’s gut.

 _i’m_ _so_ _sorry_ , he opens his mouth to say, but yunho fists his hand at his collar, drags him forward with an effortless movement that quells the cold regret in his gut and replaces it with waves of want that slide down his spine.

yunho leans in close. his pupils are blown wide.

“i’d rather you let me.”

this kiss is more of a fight, is nonetheless a welcome change from the first. yunho’s teeth click against his, and the cold metal edge of the compressor presses painfully into his chest—yunho lets him back him into the nearest wall. he forgets all about it.

they bump into yunho’s portable work station on the way, but yunho starts to trail kisses down the side of his neck, and he forgets all about that too.

changmin runs his hands under yunho’s shirt and up his sides, stops to thumb his nipples. yunho’s skin is searing, and his palms burn as he moves to cup his chest. he’s rewarded with a moan that vibrates across his collarbone and goes straight to his cock. changmin tilts his head back.

”yes, fuck.”

“that’s the plan, isn’t it?” yunho nips almost painfully at changmin before looking up at him from under his lashes. “or am i reading this wrong?”

”not at all.” changmin murmurs.

“good. do you have condoms?”

changmin stills, and yunho looks at him fully, single handed grip loosening.

“if you don’t—“ yunho moves to pull away, but changmin moves with him.

”i do. i do,” changmin’s barks out a high pitched laugh, expression turning into something painfully awkward.

yunho furrows his brows at him in question.

”it’s not that i don’t.” changmin looks to the ceiling so that yunho can’t see his face. he fills his cheeks with air, decides that, yes, he is definitely about to embarrass himself, let’s the air rush out, and shakes his head before hesitantly stepping back in the direction of his car. he glances over at yunho. “it’s just that, uh—“

”just...?”

he can feel his ears start to sting as he opens the front passenger door and reaches into his glove compartment. he has no doubt that they’ve turned scarlet.

changmin grumbles to himself, cursing his best friend to hell, hiding one hand behind his back, closing the door with the other. he brings himself back into yunho’s personal space and makes an effort to steel his features.

accepting defeat but more than anything wishing to have yunho have him, changmin shows him what he’s hiding.

yunho’s face changes into a look of disbelief, and he is silent for only a single second of realization before erupting with a cackle that changmin can only describe as annoyingly endearing.

” _gucci_ _condoms_.”

“they were a gift from my stupid best friend, okay? listen—“

”you really know how to make a country boy feel special, don’t you?” yunho wipes what might be an actual tear from his eye.

changmin thinks yunho is beautiful, laughing like that, but his cock is still mostly hard, and all he can really think about is how beautiful yunho will be with his eyes closed in pleasure and his mouth parted over his name.

”if you’re done,” changmin leans in close enough to kiss; the proximity makes yunho shut up.

changmin slides his fingers between yunho’s, takes and places the compressor away onto the portable work station, making sure that he has his attention.

he slowly flashes his very shiny green and red lined condom packet. “if you’re done, i’d really like to fuck you with them.”

”back to business so soon, shim changmin?”

playful, but the huskiness has bled back into his voice. changmin smiles that sly smile, and gives yunho what he wants.

he slips the packet into the pocket of his button up as he steps in closer to yunho, using his thigh to carefully knock his knees apart. changmin slides his hands up yunho’s thighs, around to his—wow, _glorious_  toned ass—and gives a firm squeeze.

”is this okay?” changmin asks quietly. his throat hurts, clogged with the return of his lust. he undoes a button on yunho’s overalls. “i hope that this is okay.”

”could be better,” yunho says, resisting the urge to laugh at the look morphing on changmin’s face. he leans in for emphasis, hoping his next words have the desired effect. “could be on the hood of your car.”

yunho watches as changmin’s nostrils flare, his eyes darken. desired effect acquired.

”well, city boy?” yunho teases, daring to press himself against changmin’s thigh, nearly shivering at the contact. 

with a jerk changmin hooks his fingers through the belt loops along the waist of yunho’s overalls, and with a single, quick motion, lifts yunho off of his feet, brings him flush, and slams the hood of his porsche before swinging him around to press him into it with a resonating _thunk_.

yunho’s breath hitches in delighted surprise, and changmin smiles at him wickedly before lowering his mouth to the shell of yunho’s ear. there’s a diamond stud there, and changmin flicks at it with his tongue. “better?” he asks, allowing that lust to deepen his tone.

yunho makes a small sound and palms his chest, cants his hips, hisses against changmin’s neck—trying to tell him something without words. changmin laughs quietly, the satisfaction of having yunho under him—finally—fueling him forward.

changmin grips yunho’s knees and spreads them, bends them just far enough for him to fit. he sinks his teeth into yunho’s bottom lip in the same moment that he grinds against him, and they let out dual pitches of pleasure, an electric current running between them as the friction from their jeans intensifies the feeling. 

“again,” yunho is saying, pressing his hips forward, gripping the almost-curls at the nape of changmin’s neck now. “again.”

changmin obliges, enjoying the breathless moans and airy panting in his ear, but it isn’t long before he is peeling away yunho’s clothes and licking, nipping, kissing his way down to yunho’s beautiful, swollen cock.

yunho shouts when changmin sinks his mouth down until his lips touch base. yunho arches up for him when he slides his tongue firmly across the underside of the head of his cock, and changmin makes sure to be extra sloppy in the rest of his work so that when he finally dips a finger into yunho’s ass—two, then three—it is with promising ease.

”i’m going to fuck you now,” he says, and he’s surprised at the sound of his own voice, guttural and quiet and hiding none of his emerging desperation. as much as he likes the torturous feeling of his clothed cock against the back of yunho’s bare thigh, he’s not going to make either of them happy if he keeps his pants on.

he pauses, backing away only far enough to allow him to strip. “you’re still wearing clothes?” yunho slurs, eyes hooded.

”you didn’t notice?” changmin places the green and red lined condom packet between his teeth and then swiftly unbuttons his shirt. 

“no...” yunho murmurs, but he’s distracted by the sudden nakedness. changmin lowers his gaze and drops his pants, laughing quietly.

“good,” he rolls the condom onto his throbbing cock, ”like what you see?” returns to his spot and slides two fingers into yunho before he can speak, for good measure.

”oh,  _fuck_.”

”absolutely.”

changmin slips his fingers out, ignoring yunho’s upset hiss and bracing himself with his palms placed securely on the back of yunho’s thighs.

he slides into yunho at an agonizing pace, only stopping when he is fully seated, sweat beading at his temple. “god,” he gasps, shuddering. “you’re so warm.”

yunho steples his fingertips onto the hood of the porsche, now damp and slippery, dangerous, if it weren’t for changmin holding him steady. his cock leaks against his stomach, his body buzzing with the feeling of being full. he clamps down on changmin, and changmin growls at him before sliding out.

 _wait_ , _no_ , yunho almost says, but the sound he’d started with turns into a high and harsh moan when changmin thrusts back into him, starts a steady rhythm.

the porsche sways on it’s jacks with every thrust. the jacks give a warning creek, scraping minutely against the concrete when changmin begins to fuck into yunho with sharp abandon. yunho bites at changmin’s collar bones when he leans over him, feels the burning need for release sizzle up his spine when changmin hazily meets his eyes, unfairly tugs his sinful mouth into the most irritatingly sexy smirk.

”i want—“ yunho starts, but changmin cuts him off with a dirty open mouthed kiss. in the span of a moment changmin adjusts, slides one hand under yunho’s hip, and brings yunho to incoherency.

changmin hits release before yunho does, and he slows with a strained moan, but he doesn’t stop. he slams into yunho with calculated precision, palms yunho’s leaking cock. he firmly runs his thumb along the underside of yunho’s shaft, timing the twist of his wrist with each thrust.

yunho arches high off of the hood of changmin’s car. he comes into changmin’s hand with a breathless cry, his thighs shaking at changmin’s sides. changmin stills, eyes fluttering shut and a lump forming in his throat as yunho convulses around him.

even with the single garage door up, the cooler mountain air is not match for the humidty that now hangs in the air around them.

yunho bats at changmin’s shoulder. changmin lets out an airy, aimless laugh as he carefully extracts himself from yunho and helps him slide down to his feet. yunho is looking at him with half mast eyes and something along the lines of awe.

changmin steals a kiss, carefully ties the condom off, and then even more carefully pulls up his boxers and jeans. he clears his throat and gives the shop a glance, hand full of spunk.

”bathroom’s through the emoloyee door,” yunho offers. his voice is hoarse, chest still heaving, and changmin tries not to feel too smug. “s’on the left.”

”thanks.”

when he comes back, yunho is fully dressed, standing at the edge of the garage, speaking to someone he can’t see—changmin doesn’t have time to think about how there’s probably, definitely still cum trailing down yunho’s legs—and he turns when he hears changmin fumbling around for the rest of his clothes.

”did—did you order food?” yunho asks, brows furrowed.

changmin blinks at him before tilting his head back in rememberance. “i did, actually. let me—“ changmin produces his wallet from his back pocket and slides up to yunho’s side.

the delivery girl flushes all the way to the roots of her very blonde hair when she sees him, still only in his jeans, and changmin practically has to wave the money in her face to get her to snap out of it. 

he smiles in thanks as the delivery girl jerkily hands over his food and starts to make her leave, waving with his free hand when she peeks over her shoulder, chuckling when she flushes again at being caught.

”are you hungry?” he asks yunho after he steps back inside. 

”no,” yunho says, mirth high in his voice. he watches changmin pop the trunk of his car and pull out a bright red picnic blanket. “you’re an _awful_ person, shim changmin.”

”liar.” changmin tsks as he quickly lays out his blanket in the empty car slot and plops down. he reaches into the bag and then pops a french fry into his mouth before laying out the entire contents of his order. “i’m an excellent person. an awful person wouldn’t’ve let anybody have a second glance. are you sure you don’t want any food?”

yunho rolls his eyes before he looks up from the newly adjusted jacks on changmin’s car. what a typical city boy answer. he beams warmly, though, when he sees what changmin has.

”is that a strawberry shake—shit, that’s a lot of fries. you have enough fries to feed an _army_.” yunho jests as he easily lifts the filter he mentioned earlier out of the porsche. he gives it a strong shake, and a shower of small metal shards clang onto the concrete floor at his feet.

 _i am an army_ , changmin thinks. “which is exactly why you should eat with me,” he says instead. he responds to the near reluctant look on yunho’s face by letting him know that there’s extra avacado on his sandwhich, and before he knows it they’re sitting across from one another on the picnic blanket, sharing a comfortable silence. changmin makes sure that yunho gets most of the avacado in every bite.

they fuck again after they eat, because changmin accidentally spills a bit of his strawberry milkshake onto his still sweat-sheened bare chest and yunho can’t help himself; he crawls right into changmin’s lap and licks a stripe from the v-cut of his navel, over a nipple—where he pauses to give one, firm suck that rewards him with a quiet and deep hum of approval, a shiver that is only felt—before scooping up the pink splatter and making a show of licking his lips.

the dark look he sees on changmin’s face when he raises his gaze nearly makes him cum.

this time, changmin has him against the wall, yunho’s ankles locked securely at the small of his back and his wrists pinned high above his head so that changmin can watch those glorious biceps, as he had originally intended.

it’s a steamy, sticky fuck. yunho’s skin tastes like heat and the scent of hot metal. “so warm,” changmin rocks against him with a low pitched groan. “everything about you is just so fucking warm.”

when yunho does cum, it’s with changmin hissing filthy nothings in his ear and in thick, hot stripes over changmin’s abdomen. after fucking him through it, changmin paints his thighs in turn.

”are you going to let me fix your car now?” yunho asks after slipping his t-shirt and overalls on for the second time. 

“depends,” changmin says, leaning back into the only other chair, again only in jeans and nothing else. he pushes his hair back and takes his time giving yunho a once over. his phone chimes from somewhere behind him. “are you going to let me?”

yunho laughs, a flash of teeth.

”if you’re lucky.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> whew, chile............ fuck changmin. like,,,,, fuck him lmfaooooo. *cough* anyways.
> 
> [ **TWITTER**](http://twitter.com/hwkmoons) | [TUMBLR](http://slpytea.tumblr.com) | [ INSTA](http://instagram.com/trilliyen)


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